VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Amrita Valan

Digital Millenials When Push Comes to Shove

Ants let loose

To crawl from paper

To screens.

Digital millennials

Thought

Words

Became manifest.

A love fest

An Arab Springs revival

Not massacre at Tiananmen square.

Not killing fields of Cambodia.

Now we are doing Palestine

On

Instant coffee, addictive,

And insubstantial.

Israel is also real.

See?

Both sides of the

Wailing wall.

I Dread

 I dread

The quiet knock at the door.

Political canvassers fishing for votes.

I dread,

Questions about my creed, my beliefs.

That will not accommodate hybrids.

I dread conversation’s opening gambits,

That attempt to map the grid

Of my faith, ethnicity,

My integral need, to be true

To myself first. Society be curst.

I dread,

 Saying I’m a Hindu, happy to be,

Bringing up my children,

In Christianity.

All ways are viable to me.

Your surprise and shock

Is a mystery.

I dread a horrid wake up call,

In anarchic future ruled by ghouls

Who’d like to take apart my rainbow sutures.

Tear apart my children’s futures.

Bright threads that accommodate

Asking me to preach their hate.

Silence.

I remember Hippolyta being torn to delicate shreds. 

The Parabolini in every faith

I Dread.

I belong to her world.

Where standards are applied.

I am allowed to ponder, I decide.

My freedom to straddle both sides

Of this wild ride.

Inclusivity is not sympathy for

One side.

Parabolini dismembered her wisdom.

Like a mangled marionette, barbaric fate

Meted out to the erudite.

I dread

Conversations, mouthing conventions,

Pre-determination posing as discussion.

Identity thieves preaching conversion,

Supremacists selling salvation.

Playing into gloved hands

Slaying souls with love

Decisions of Convenience

Made beforehand.

I want to be myself

More than ever before.

When I see how uniformity is

Being sold.  Perhaps we don’t know,

Or choose to forget, Paths

Are not oaths. We never swore

To keep it narrow and straight.

They evolve, revolve, returning you at

The gate, here you stand,

Where you started.

On open grounds of neutrality,

Questions and answers shake hands, uncertain.

Again and again. Common ground is our

Invaluable gain.

And there may be more than one option.

Multiple choices, myriad voices

Music in noises.

Please don’t deny my children.

Don’t muzzle

Their choices.

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